“Am I?” He lifted his brow. “You forget I’m a newcomer.”
“Well, you belong here, at least. Mr. North was kind enough to help secure an invitation for me. He said it would be beneficial to help me learn more about my family.”
James stiffened at the mention of Mr. North and the memory of the warm smile she’d given him. “I thought Mr. Longham had been assisting you.”
“He has, of course, but I’ve not heard from him since our interaction at Briarton.” She stepped closer, tightening the space between them. Her voice lowered. “And concerning that, again I feel the need to apologize. I never would have expected to impose on you in such a manner.”
“Miss Hale, how quickly you forget that you’ve assisted my family in the most extraordinary way. I think the use of my study for a rather short conversation is a small price to pay.”
She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “Since you are, in a way, familiar with my story, might I ask you a question?”
“You may ask me anything.”
“I’m told there are several mill men here. Is Mr. Peter Clark, by chance, present?”
Now it made sense. Perhaps Milton had been right. This was why she was here.
“No, I’ve not seen him,” he said. “Actually, I’d hoped to speak with him on a different matter as well, but it appears we both will need to wait for another opportunity.”
Disappointment furrowed her alabaster brow. “I was hoping to meet him, given what Mr. Longham had said. Do you know anything of him?”
He drew a deep breath. Peter Clark was a boorish man, that much he knew. Determined to profit at any cost. It did not bother James, for their interactions began and ended with the mills. He could only imagine the man’s brashness in a conversation as personal as the one he would have with Miss Hale. But what good would it do to divulge that at this point? “He’s married and has no children, but that is the extent of what I know of his personal life. Beyond that our interaction has been limited to specific mill talk.”
James glanced back through the threshold to see Mr. North at a distance, yet staring in their direction.
“And how is Rachel faring?” Miss Hale asked, seeming oblivious to Mr. North’s attentions.
He chuckled, returning his full attention to her. “Angry not to be here. She insists that she is old enough for such gatherings.”
Miss Hale’s amiable lightheartedness returned. “You do not agree?”
“She’s still young. Her behavior and the choices she makes need to reflect her age before I consent to such.”
“I daresay she learned a valuable lesson over the last couple of weeks.”
“I should hope.”
“And your daughters? Are they well?”
He sobered at the question. “Maria fell from a tree and broke her arm.”
Miss Hale’s hand flew to her chest. “Is she all right?”
“It’s a painful injury, but she’ll recover.” He looked down at her, and he knew exactly what needed to be done.
He liked Miss Hale. He respected her. He already considered her a good example for Rachel. What could she also do for his girls? Furthermore, he knew the truth about her: she was Robert Clark’s illegitimate daughter. It should matter, but for some reason, it didn’t. “Speaking of the girls, I’m glad to have encountered you. We were never able to resume our conversation the other night.”
At this, eagerness widened her eyes, as if they were sharing a secret. She lifted her face to him expectantly.
“I realize that this probably isn’t the best place for this chat, but Maria’s experience has shed light on the fact that I cannot, in good faith, wait for the governess my mother-in-law has selected. Someone is needed now to oversee them. I’m not, of course, sure what you have learned from the solicitor and how it affects your plans, but I am keen to learn if you are still interested in the governess position.”
Chapter 24
Had she heard him correctly? Cassandra could almost laugh with relief.
In that single second Mr. Warrington’s offer hoisted a great weight from her shoulders. Finally, something positive glimmered, something secure and concrete—a development that would propel her in the right direction.
She could not respond quickly enough. “Y-yes! I should like that very much.”
He nodded, but his expression remained customarily stoic. “Excellent. If it is agreeable to you, I will take tomorrow to get things situated, and then you may come by early the next day to get settled at Briarton Park. I see no cause to delay.”
With every new word spoken, her nerves flailed wildly within her. “That is wonderful. Thank you, sir. I am certain that—”
Her words were interrupted. She lifted her gaze slightly over Mr. Warrington’s shoulder to see Mr. North approaching them, his expression unusually severe. “Oh, Mr. North. Forgive me. I did not see you there.”
“I’ve been looking for you! I thought I’d quite lost you.” Mr. North moved closer, giving Mr. Warrington a brief nod in greeting. “The hour is growing quite late, and the rain has started, I’m afraid. Mrs. Martin desires to return home. So as much as I hate to put an end to the festivities, I do feel the time has come to see you ladies home.”
A pang of disappointment shot through her. She cast a glance up at Mr. Warrington, wishing there was some way he could intervene. She wanted to stay with him. To continue discussing their plans.
But it was impossible, of course.
Besides, in a matter of two days all would begin. Her new role. Her new pupils. Something to focus on outside of herself.
“Very well then.” She pivoted back to Mr. Warrington. “Thank you, sir. I look forward to all we’ve discussed.”
“Until later then.” Mr. Warrington bowed.
Cassandra took the vicar’s proffered arm and followed him as he led her from the quiet and privacy of the corridor back to the main drawing room.
When they were out of earshot, Mr. North whispered quite close, “It is none of my business, I know, but I could not help but overhear. Mr. Warrington mentioned something about ‘later.’ Do you have upcoming business with him?”
She saw no reason to keep it secret. “I do. Rather exciting news, at least on my part. I’ve been engaged as governess to care for his daughters.”
She expected him to offer a bit of congratulations, but none came. In fact, his expression turned almost adverse.
She lowered her gaze to the ground as they walked. She was learning his ways—learning his moods and his dispositions. “I take it from your silence that you do not approve.”
He hesitated. “It is not my place to approve or disapprove, but do you think it wise to tie yourself to a family—a position—so early in your search?”
“What could be wrong with it? It is employment, and quite necessary. Nothing more.”
“You will need help from others,” he cautioned, his tone worrisome. “There are still many questions to be answered, and people, whether you like it or not, are starting to talk.”
A tingle skittered down the back of her neck. The same tingle she had felt when he talked about socializing with Betsy and the other boarders. He was turning this conversation in a direction she did not necessarily want it to go.